Available at: http://www.amazon.com/
There are 273-pages including the (often funny) illustrations, acknowledgements, abbreviations, bibliography and index. The illustrations alone merit a purchase of this handy little volume.
The outline is simple:
1. Dramatis Personae
2. King Josiah: Purifying the Realm
3. King Solomon: Building the Temple
4. The Afterlife of the Edwardian Reformation
Before posting our notes and interpolated musings, we must say that Mr. MacCulloch writes vividly and dramatically. And, he is an academic elite when it comes to Cranmer.
Now for the notes.
Edward VI ascended the throne on Jan 28, 1547, the day of his father’s death. The boy-king was fathered by a "middle-aged man" who died in "middle-age," aged 56 and six months shy of 57. Edward never saw his father’s reign or manner of rule.
Henry had become increasingly capricious, “dangerous, egotistical” with large views of his own ability (1). He had broken England’s millennium-long association with Rome. 100s of monasteries, friaries, and nunneries were turned “into empty shells” to be “torn down” and “sold off by speculative builders” (1).
Meanwhile, we are reminded, the context was a “background of a Europe-wide movement of Reform” that “convulsed the whole Western Latin Church.”
Mr. MacCulloch does some house-keeping on terms, just as he did in his Thomas Cranmer: A Life. As a matter of "historical accuracy," he prefers, likes and will use the term “Evangelical.” He notes that “from the mid-1550s, English people used the term `Protestantism’” (1). The term had arisen from the Continental Diet (Assembly) held at Speyers in 1529. The Holy Roman Empire or Holy Germanic Empire convened and Protestant princes presented a protest—called Protestatio. The term “Protestant” or its cognates gained currency akin to perestroika and glasnost in the mid-1980s. Yet, the term “Protestant” remained a term for “the doings of foreigners” (2). But, it was well-worn and used.
Mr. MacCulloch offers an interesting insight. The “Protestants” were invited to Henry VIII’s funeral at Windsor in 1547. Should they please.
This--the "Protestants"--referred to a German religious alliance called the Schmalkaldic League.
At Edward VI’s coronation, the Germanic "Protestant" Princes were given “an honoured place in the coronation procession of the new king in London” (2). They were simply called “The Protestants.”
Also, again, take note of Mr. MacCulloch's title The Boy King: Edward VI and the Protestant Reformation. That term "Protestant Reformation," at this point, will cause the Tractarians to break out in involuntary sweats, hyper-ventilating and perspicuous hives. As an aside, we do like Mr. Packer's term for them, the "Roman Trojan Horse."
But, what does Mr. Cranmer think of it, our oblique mystery man?
We are reminded of what Mr. Clebisch noted: Mr. (Bp.) Stephen Gardiner conducted Henry's funeral obsequies according to the "ancient custom," not Mr. Canterbury. Also, of note, Mr. Cranmer preached at Edward's coronation on February 20, 1547. A long tension between Gardiner and Cranmer, but we move on.
But, moving on, Mr. MacCulloch observes that the term of preference must be “evangelical” or one of its widely used cognates. The sense was this. The term meant “faithful to the spirit of Christ’s Gospel, the good news of the evangelium.” (2). The “Evangelicals” offered a “restatement of the Christian faith” (2). As an aside to Mr. MacCulloch's historical point on the term, many Confessional Lutherans to this day also claim this title as a matter of historical privilege; we would add that the Tractarians and other “Anglican drunks tottering on the cliff’s edge” (to use Mr. Canterbury Welby's very recent term for Anglicans), the Greeks, and the Romanists would, will and do eschew the historical sense of the term, “Evangelical.” And, of course, it does not refer to the American yahoos of our times. These were Prayer Book men and Reformers. But, Mr. MacCulloch points us back to the “Continent-wide struggle” and the historic use of the term (3). Mr. MacCullock adopts the term in both volumes, Thomas Cranmer and The Boy King.
Yet Henry prided himself on steering some middle course. In a “Swansong” and keynote address to Parliament in 1545, he declaimed against two parties: (1) those who were “too stiff in their old mumpsimus” and (2) those “too busy and curious in their new sumpsimus” (3). Allegedly, he got so worked up and was so earnest that he “dissolved into tears” (3). But what middle course?
Apparently, Henry and Mr. Canterbury were “not entirely in agreement about where that middle way might be found.” Of course, Henry was in command and Mr. Canterbury was always ever-pliable. However, the Edwardian reforms would indicate Mr. Canterbury’s directions and his "middle course."
Henry apparently was offering a “theological jackdaw’s nest” according to Mr. MacCulloch. What a term, "theological jackdaw's nest." It's memorable. Jackdaws are crows that fly in formation or packs. They will steal and store things they don't need. As a result, the term gains the sense of covetous chap, stealing and storing its thieving achievements, without a sense of any need for what was stolen. Some theological contours are offered by Mr. MacCulloch on this "nest of crows:"
• During Henry’s last decade, he toned down purgatory, the “thought and devotional practice of northern Europe” (4). We are unconvinced by the claim, especially since Henry endowed French shrines for masses to be said for himself and his family for years after his death. But, we'll take Mr. MacCulloch's point under advisement.
• The King’s Book of 1543 was the “last official doctrinal statement.” In it, the term "purgatory" was downgraded and its use was “forbidden.” That’s new to us. And it's odd. We would add, were Mr. Canterbury’s views on "justification by faith alone" influencing this? Mr. MacCulloch will allude briefly to Mr. Canterbury's view as per below.
• Henry was “crystallizing” an “anticlericalism” (5), although this was by no means a novel thing for English kings. Think Avignon Papacy or the Conciliarist Councils of the 15th century. Or, think of Emperor Charles V holding the Pope hostage in Castile d' San Angelo, Rome. Or, Pope Clement VII's "double crossing Henry" on the "Great Matter."
• Mr. MacCulloch suggests that Henry was downgrading the “traditional church’s seven sacraments” that emphasized the “clerical mystique: confirmation, unction, and ordination” (5). We would add that we want documentary evidence for this claim.
• There was some iconoclastic destruction of “shrines and images” (5). Mr. MacCulloch points to Henry’s "self-congratulatory note" in his own hand in "his own Psalter."
• Yet, Henry never accepted Mr. Canterbury’s instruction on "justification by faith alone." Henry “passionately believed,” we are told, that this doctrine would undercut the motive to good deeds. After all, Henry believed he was the “guardian of the kingdom’s morality.” We would add, never mind the divorces or “non-marriages” as he would call them (with Cranmer obliging on three of them: Catherine of Aragon, Ann Boleyn, and Ann of Cleves).
• Henry maintained “clerical celibacy” vis a vis the Six Articles. Poor Mr. Canterbury would ship his wife back to Germany, the ever-pliable one.
Mr. MacCulloch has a classic line to summarize Henry’s jackdaw’s nest: “To describe the religious mixture as theologically ambiguous is to indulge in courtier-like understatement” (6). Excellently put.
We include the wonderful illustration/picture in the volume. It is by Girolamo de Treviso. It was commissioned by Henry VIII and hung at Hampton for nearly a decade before and up to his death on January 28, 1547. It’s entitled, “The Four Evangelists Stoning the Pope.” A slam dunk by Henry whatever else he was.
Such a nest of conflicts would become the “see-saw in the fortunes of evangelicals and traditionalists around him,” never quite knowing what to make of it all (6), “lurching back and forth.” One might think old Harry was playing both sides against his middle (er, his reportedly 76-inch waistline).
Mr. MacCullough observes that Henry had “evangelicals” around him; apparently, this was unproblematic or perhaps they were just pliable and quiet? The “people closest to the old king in his everyday life and in his private apartments—even his doctors—were mostly evangelical in sympathy” (7). Again, odd. Confusing.
Henry had given up burning “evangelical heretics” from 1543-1546, we are told, but what else was Mr. Cranmer doing during this time? Mr. MacCulloch hints that perhaps, again, perhaps Henry tired of “the manouevers [sic] of leading traditionalists” as heresy-hunters. Think More, Fisher and others. Henry extended his protection to Mr. Canterbury in the “so called ‘Prebendaries Plot’” seen by Henry as an “unwarranted assault on a faithful servant” (7).
But conflicting evidence is at hand. In the summer of 1546, several “evangelical sacramentaries” went to the stake of flames. They denied the cannibalism-view of the Holy Supper (cannibalism is our term, not Mr. MacCulloch’s…it is what they claim it is, eating flesh and drinking blood, so let them “name it, claim it, own it and rename it for what it is”). Where’s Mr. Canterbury again during these burnings? In summer of 1546?
Yet, Henry left in place the political machinery for a reformation. He left “evangelical politicians in an unassailable position to take over at his death” (7). Edward Seymour and his associates on the Privy Council were ready for Seymour’s status as “Lord Protector.” Edward VI would inherit the “closely knit group of his father’s advisors” (8). They were given power “in the last weeks before his [Edward’s] accession,” an “arrangement by Henry.” Again, odd. Again, confusing.
The Lord Protector surrounded himself by “like-minded politicians”—John Dudley, William Parr, Thomas Cranmer himself, and William Paget—“heading an evangelical establishment” (8). But, why?
Other Henrician incongruities are observed.
Bishop Ridley and old Thomas Goodrich are brought aboard. Further, Henry had Edward trained as a lad by two “evangelicals,” Sir John Cheke and Richard Cox. Cheke would later go to the stake under Mary while Mr. Cox would flee to the Continent (and have his dog fight with Mr. John Knox at Franfort), but we digress. Mr. Cox would also become an Elizabethan Bishop. Mr. MacCulloch observes that these men had an agenda that would have been “hard to hide from Henry VIII” (8). These men were “determined to join the religious revolution in the rest of Europe” (8). Quite a “high claim” by Mr. MacCulloch, a man ensconced in academic primary and secondary sources at length and in depth. If one is to quarrel with Mr. MacCullouch, we would advise thorough preparation with extremely humble questions.
Mr. MacCulloch then speaks of the Edwardian “revolution with a cast list.” The title of the chapter itself is “Dramatis Personae” and that’s where he’s going. It's a high drama.
Or, we are “spectators at a drama: a drama of six years’ span” (9). Some call it a “tragedy” full of “destruction, attacks on beauty, refined spirituality” and a “senseless waste of resources.”
Whatever the view, Mr. MacCulloch vividly calls it the “epic contest between polar opposites,” one that lacked the “nuances of Elizabeth’s time” (9).
He calls the Edwardian days a “dynamic assault on the past.” Were these six years that dramatic? The general narrative is that this is where Mr. Canterbury tipped his hand.
The story, he tells us, will be written, revised, rewritten, with revisions of the rewritings, all to suit varied agendas, tastes and desires. That is why one must do their own homework.
We certainly do not want to take the word of some "Anglican drunk" (again, borrowing from Mr. Canterbury Welby's recent turn of phrase). Or, to use Mr. (Rev. Dr. Prof.) Alister McGrath's recent claim (as in today) that Anglican leaders have left a "vacuum" for our times. What's that, "vacuum cleaners" sucking up the Reformation dirt and filth? Who does one listen to? We have to do our own reading.
We return to a governing question: “Where was Mr. Canterbury, what did he affirm or deny, and when did he do such or the other?” Our mystery man is mysterious.
Where is this all going in this high drama of epic proportions?
Also, for an overview of the direction of things, Mr. MacCulloch gives us a (funny and entertaining) engraving from Mr. Foxe’s Acts and Monuments entitled “Allegory of the Reign of Edward.” See the picture below. Mr. Foxe envisions a “Reformed house of God” with an “ordered hierarchy of a royal court,” “stripped of Popery,” with a “bonfire consuming images.” A picture with Papal and Non-Papal Roman Anglicans (our term for 1.0, 2.0ers) fleeing the English coast “to take such abroad, clutching to whatever paraphernalia of errors they can salvage--`Ship over your trinkets and be packing ye papists” (10). A few other comments in the picture: “The Temple well purged.” The “Ship of the Romish Church.” Mr. Clebisch will call it a “revolution” in the making and something that may have exceeded Mr. Canterbury's vision for a Reformed Church of England. Indeed. A Civil War in England followed by the exports of English Puritanism to America.
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